


His ice-colored eyes make her blood burn

by rachattack



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:41:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachattack/pseuds/rachattack
Summary: Doc struggles with existence. She purposely got herself locked up on the Ark for a couple years and was sent to Earth with the other juvenile delinquents days before her release date. Her extraordinary intelligence and medical skills lend her the will to live by giving her purpose. While trying to escape the pain of her past, she runs into someone whose soul captivates her. Can she overcome her demons without breaking her oath? Will she gather the courage to directly express her feelings to Roan? I fucking hope so.I don't own the show or the characters. The plot will have several deviations from the show because there were things in the show that pissed me off (Lincoln's death, Roan's death, etc.). So I'm writing it how I wished it went.
Relationships: Jasper Jordan & Monty Green & Octavia Blake & Lincoln & Original Female Character(s), Monty Green/Jasper Jordan, Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Roan (The 100)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 5





	1. Scouts in the Field

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is set during The 100's Season 3: Episode 2: Wanheda Part 2.

Peering into the field, Doc sees Clarke get a bag put over her head by a man. Brown hair a bit longer than shoulder length, long torso. His hair is blocking her view of his side profile. Their camouflage is good, but Clarke tried to yell past her gag a couple times, and Doc isn’t the only one who noticed. She counts three Azgedan scouts honing in on them: two swords and one bow. 

Doc keeps crouched and slowly moves forward, out of the trees and into the field. She watches the man pull Clarke forward by her bounds towards the scouts. He reaches his hand up and moves his hair. His back is to her, but he must be showing them Azgedan scars. If he wasn’t from Azgeda they would already be stabbing the shit out of him. At what point in their lives do Azgedan warriors receive their scars? It would be nice if she could ask him. Even if she could, he might prefer to chop her up with the two huge ass swords strapped to his fuckin’ back than expand her cultural knowledge. 

Still moving forward, but not close enough to hear yet. Even without words to go on, it’s clear the scouts want to take her from the man after one yanks the bag off her head. The warrior must know he will have to fight them to keep her. Hopefully she can help Clarke get the fuck out of this field while the Azgeda warriors fight each other for whatever reward the Queen of Azgeda is offering. Wait-no, that can’t be right. Why can’t that be right? Because the direction he was taking Clarke wasn’t towards Azgeda, it was towards Polis. 

It looks like he is dancing, so graceful. It could be beautiful if his left arm wasn’t swinging a sword drenched in the first scout’s blood, but she needs to focus on Clarke now. The warrior dropped Clarke’s bounds to fight the scouts and she is on the move. Doc increases her speed. With all the ruckus they’re making by running, her movements should stay unheard. She veers left to cut off the scout chasing Clarke, waiting to stick a leg out at the perfect moment.

The contact his boot makes with her right leg hurts as much as she thought it would, but the scout eats dirt. Maybe she should have stayed at Arkadia today. She could be stoned out of her mind right now with Jasper and Monty, but instead she was running away from people swinging blades around. 

Doc launches her body off the ground to run past the fallen scout. Her right ankle stings and the knee buckles: a blade. She’s just glad he didn’t get her tendon. Someone is running up behind them, must be Clarke’s Azgedan captor. Doc whips her head to the right to take in the scene. Clarke’s captor is already upon them. It can’t have taken more than a few seconds for him to take out the two scouts. She scrambles to get away, but the scout must have dropped the knife because his grip on her bloody ankle pulls her back to the ground. The last scout groans behind her and she knows the warrior saved her life. 

Well, she has her up-close look at him now. His eyes are piercing. Doc needs to look around more, observation is key, but his eyes hold hers. She is reminded of a cobra hypnotizing its prey. They are so blue, and just look at all the different shades. Then there is his voice: deep, guttural. She doesn’t hear what he says. The man’s lips move again, repeating himself. Again, she doesn’t hear. His almond-shaped eyes narrow, probably taking her silence as a refusal to answer. He tilts his head. Can he see her confusion? He probably thinks her brain doesn’t work. Why isn’t her brain working?

Before she can find an answer to her question, Clarke is on the man’s back and has her bounds around his neck. She is pulling back, choking him. He throws himself backwards and crushes her between his back and the grass. The impact lowers her guard, and he gets free of her. In the next second he’s back on his feet, crouching, flipping Clarke over onto her stomach so her hands are trapped underneath her. 

“It didn’t have to be this way.” His voice is a combination of weariness and annoyance. She is glad he didn’t want violence. A person that wants to harm people isn’t really a person at all, they are a monster disguised by a person-suit. Doc couldn’t associate the mind behind those eyes with evil. She has seen evil-No, she can’t do this now. She can’t remember that now. There were scouts, and scouts generally scout for an army. So they needed to high tail it out of there before the fucking Azgedan army showed up. 

Doc notices Clarke tense her right arm. She must have a weapon. Doc didn’t want the Azgedian’s sharp eyes dulled by pain, and she knew he didn’t plan on harming Clarke. Doc and Clarke have spent months down here together. Clarke aided Doc with medical procedures when she needed an extra set of hands. She knew about her no-harm policy. If only she could communicate to Clarke that she wasn’t in immediate danger. Then maybe Clarke wouldn’t try what Doc knew she was about to try. 

As the Asgedian pulled up Clarke, Doc moved in-between them. She felt the knife enter her stomach and a groan escaped her lips. Clarke realized she didn’t get her intended target, and stopped short of putting the knife all the way in. Maybe this could finally be it for her. She hopes that death will bring the peace she has craved for so long. Touching her hand to the wound, Doc feels a bit put out because nothing important was damaged. So that meant she would probably be killed by the Azgedan army within the hour since she couldn’t be lucky enough to have a quick death bleeding out. 

Doc find his eyes with hers again. If his eyes were clouded the way hers no doubt were, would they still have the same effect on her? Like a stun gun. Doc wonders if the rest of the Azgedan royal family share his eyes. His name is eluding her, she has to look for it. She closes her eyes and walks past her most recent memory doors. As her hand grips the handle of the door she wanted, she knew in the back of her mind that her body was being lifted into the air. 

The memory Doc observes behind her closed eyes is of Lincoln handing her a page torn from his notebook, where he had written a list of tribe clans, leaders, and their children. He was telling her about the formation of The Coalition, how during Lexa’s reign as commander she united the clans. The Azgedan queen resisted joining The Coalition at first, so when she decided to join Lexa made it a requirement to banish her heir. 

Lincoln’s speech could be in trigedasleng around her because she picked it up so quickly. Not long after that point in time she had started helping him teach Octavia. Doc scanned the paper for the only name with a line through it. Found it: Roan.


	2. Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This second chapter is set during The 100's Season 3: Episode 2: Wanheda Part 2. This chapter took longer to post than I intended. In my defense, I was doing a lot of outlining at the same time. I often jump between chapters, adding paragraphs here and there as I imagine them. The good news is that as I post this, the next two chapters are both halfway done!

He should’ve left her there. Roan and Clarke would be safely away from the Azgedan army by now if he hadn’t been carrying her. She supposes if Roan hadn’t taken her with, Clarke would have made his job dragging her along more difficult. 

Clarke probably doesn’t want more blood on her hands. Well, Doc’s blood is already on her hands technically. She did run away out of shame and guilt, which Doc finds appropriate. Killing people in self-defense is one thing, but Doc felt being responsible for the death of innocent casualties was crossing a line. If she died now and became a ghost haunting the Earthly plane, she wouldn’t waste her time haunting Clarke because that would probably be a crowded affair. 

Jasper is on her mind now. The memory of Maia surrounds him, chokes him when he tries to sleep. They both have nightmares now, of different things that are the same. Monsters in people-suits that destroy those in their path. As much as Doc hates it, his eyes are attuned to the darkness like hers now. 

Doc is catching a second wind. Her eyes slowly blink open, adjusting to the light. She can hear and feel Roan’s heartbeat against her right ear. 170 bpm, a fast heartbeat but not unhealthy.  
“I have to put you down to look at my map.” Roan’s voice is urgent and as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he is lowering his right arm so her feet can touch the ground. The rumble of his chest when he spoke surprised Doc and sent a warmth from her head to her fingers. She had never listened to another person’s heartbeat in a non-clinical situation. 

Doc grips his left arm as she slowly straightens her back. Her free hand is pressed to her wound to slow the bleeding, but the pain is in the back of her mind. The warmth in her still hasn’t faded as she watches his serious face study the map. She jerks her head away from him when Clarke speaks to her. It feels like a chore. She almost certain she won’t like anything Clarke has to say.

“He’s an Ice Nation bounty hunter. He captured me for his queen, and I’m going to end up dead. We would be on our way to Arkadia now if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” Clarke summed up her perceptive of the situation with an accusatory tone. She rolled her eyes. How many times has she given Clarke and Bellamy knowledge gleaned from observation to guide their decisions? The answer is twenty-seven, and this is only their fifty-second day on the ground. They only take her advice when it serves their agenda. Assholes. 

Doc shook her head and Clarke furrowed her eyebrows. 

“No to which part?”. Doc lifts her left hand to show three fingers and a crease appears between Clarke’s eyebrows.

Roan interrupts before Clarke can respond. “Since you know everything, tell me: where are we going?” He doesn’t look at Doc as he says this because he is putting away his map. 

Doc’s reply was instant. “Polis.” Her voice was a soft croak, yanked from her body by his voice, his smell, his gaze. Does he know he can do that? Does he know he has this effect on people?   
She heard Clarke’s intake of breath, and his face turns from Doc’s to view her surprise. He will likely attribute her surprise to their destination and not to Doc’s speech. 

“You can’t be that surprised that the Commander wants you. So what is it?” Roan’s voice sounds so irritated that what Doc hears is: ‘why does everything have to be so fucking annoying?’ She feels for him, but she also kind of enjoys hearing the annoyance directed towards Clarke because Doc usually finds her annoying too. Based on what Skaikru has heard about Queen Nia of Azgeda, Roan’s mother, they were better off dealing with Lexa. 

It didn’t seem like Clarke was going to answer him even though he pulled down her gag, which was fine with Doc. She didn’t really want to hear Clarke explain her selective mutism. Yeah, let’s all sit around and talk about how weird Doc is. Since she can’t talk, she can just listen. Well, apparently Doc can talk now. Not that Doc never learned how to talk, it’s just that not talking has been her go-to coping mechanism for past trauma. 

“Now she’s quiet.” Roan’s words sounded like they were accompanied by an eye roll, but Doc didn’t have a view of his face because he had turned toward Clarke to put the gag back in her mouth as he spoke. 

Clarke shook her head and Roan paused with his arm outstretched towards her. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll be quiet. I’ll take my chances at Polis.” He lowered his arm at her words.  
Lifting Doc into the air again, Roan quickly picked up his pace to get to shelter before Azgedan soldiers start scanning the woods for whoever dispatched their scouts.

Roan’s chest rumbled against her head again, having the same effect on her as last time. “ We are almost there.” His voice was low and laced with concern. Doc thinks the concern is for her. Perhaps he feels responsible for her wound, but he shouldn’t. It’s not like he pulled her in front of himself for a shield.

“I’ll do what I can.” It was concern for her. Doc supposes, in Roan’s eyes, he owes her a life debt because she stopped Clarke from hurting him. 

Clarke speaks up. “She has medical supplies in her bag. She is our doctor, which is another word for healer.” 

Roan halts abruptly in front of what looks like an underground entrance made of cement. Before heading down the stairs he looks at Clarke. “Be quiet, or we’re all dead.” As the three of them head down the stairs, Doc looks at the sun’s position and figures they have less than an hour before nightfall.

She thinks of what is likely to happen. Roan will have to immobilize Clarke, because no matter what she says he won’t want to risk her taking off. With Doc’s injury, he probably won’t worry too much about her freeing Clarke. While she tries to stitch her stomach, he will gather dry wood to make a fire. 

Thinking of fire leads Doc’s thoughts to weed. That would be great for her pain. She has those supplies in her bag along with her medical supplies, but she can’t risk the smell traveling. If the wind picked up, someone could follow the smell if they were close enough to the shelter.


	3. Cave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're still on The 100, Season 3: Episode 2: Wanheda Part 2

Doc’s fingers, usually so nimble, shake from the blood loss. Her hands aren’t steady enough to stitch herself up. Roan did save her life, but she didn’t think he would take off Clarke’s bounds. He left her gag off because he trusted her not to scream again, that didn’t mean he thought she wouldn’t run. 

Roan kneels next to where Doc is sitting and holds out his left hand. “I haven’t had any training in healing, but I will cauterize the wound if you want me to.” His offer is kind and his words gentle. She places the needle in his hand, her fingertips tingling when they made contact with his palm. 

Doc can tell Clarke is falling asleep because the rising of her chest slows. Exhausted, she looks to Roan as he wipes the blood from the blade he used in the field. Noticing Doc watching him, he speaks to her with a tone that is a tad defensive.

“This was self-defense. I didn’t want this.” She nodded, knowing he wanted to return to Azgeda. He must have there he cares for and misses. Doc couldn’t imagine how lonely he must feel. Torn away from everyone he loves, isolated. She was often trapped in her head, but no matter how bad it got, she always had Jasper and Monty. Now she has Octavia and Lincoln too. Doc wants to ask him about Azgeda, about his loved ones, his life before exile. She couldn’t remember the last time she wanted to speak so badly. What did his peaceful place look like? What were his family dinners like? If he could spend his time doing anything, what would it be?

“Why do you believe me?” Roan had been holding the sword over the fire, and now he was moving towards her. His face was apologetic, this was going to hurt. Lincoln told her Azgeda is known for their brutality, for being cutthroat. Doc doesn’t see this in Roan’s eyes. She sees determination, but caution. Her head falls back and her breath hisses between her lips when he cauterizes her skin with the blade.

The fierceness and graceful speed he displayed in the field remind Doc of tigers. She had seen pictures of them on the Ark and wondered if any tigers mutated to survive the radiation. This Azgedan tiger didn’t revel in bloodshed, he had tried to avoid it with communication.

Doc focuses on the words she wants to say instead of the pain. “B-b-because y-your disguise, p-posture, combat skills, and travel direction t-told me who you are. T-that and notes I had read about the clans’ leading families.” She is blown away by how much she just said. Blinking open her eyes, she gazed into his when she revealed his title.

“Prince de glace.” When Roan tilts his head slightly and blinks, Doc realizes that she spoke in French instead of English. She tried to be dramatic and it flopped. 

“You said you know who I am, not what I am. There is more than one prince of Azgeda.” The Azgedan tiger warrior prince is getting to be a long title. 

“Roan.” Doc enjoyed saying his name. She wants to say it again, so she leans towards him and tries to weave assurance into her voice. “Roan.” In his name she wants Roan to hear ‘I see you. I’ll help you’.

Doc pointed at Roan to indicate she was asking about him, then she crossed her arms over her chest in the sign for love. He didn’t ask for clarification, just looked away from her into the fire. It was a personal question, and entirely probable that he ignores it.

“My siblings. I often worry about how difficult their lives have been during my banishment. I acted as a buffer for them. Our mother is a harsh and unforgiving leader, and her parenting is no different.” Roan’s face expressed bemusement as he spoke, as if he couldn’t believe he was speaking of them. But he was happy to speak of them, she could tell. His longing to see them was evident in his voice. Kira and Brom-twins. Their names had been beneath his in Lincoln’s notes.

Doc points to her eyes, then to him. “My eyes?” Roan tilts his head slightly as wonders where she's going with this.

“Are their eyes like mine?”. She nods and he shakes his head in response. “No, they have brown eyes.” Doc would like to sketch his eyes. Or his whole face. What she would like to sketch most is the moment he was kneeling next to her, hand outstretched, concerned eyes. Doc could get the drawing materials Lincoln gifted her out of her bag and walk into that memory, but she felt exhausted.

Doc drifts away to sleep with these thoughts in her mind, and later wakes to a chill. An absence of heat that was previously present. Roan must have stayed next to her, keeping an eye on her as she slept. It was nice to think that maybe he was concerned about her wound, but it was more likely that he didn’t want to chase her if she got a head start trying to run off. Paranoia is definitely something she is familiar with.

Before Doc blinks open her eyes or thinks about how well she slept, she hears a scuffle. Her eyes open and it’s very dark, but she can see Bellamy laid out with Roan poised to strike while Clarke pleads for Bellamy’s life. Roan is receptive to Clarke’s hasty promise to come quietly and delivers a non-lethal stab to Bellamy’s leg before knocking him out to get a head start. Doc knows Bellamy will live because there are no doubt other members of Skaikru searching for Clarke, waiting for the Azgedan army to pass.

“Our healer can’t talk! She has to sign with her hands. But listen – the reason she wants to stay is because she takes her doctor’s oath seriously. Doc only heals with her hands, and she never uses her hands to harm others. So just let her stay! She can help him!” Clarke’s voice is still high-pitched with fear for Bellamy. 

Doc can’t help it, she’s a dramatic bitch. She can’t wait to see the look on Clarke’s face when she sees Doc speak to Roan. She focuses on his face and thinks of the words she wants to say. He is looking at her, indecision on his face. The other Skaikru members could catch up to him if she tells them where he’s heading.

“I-I hope you get to see them soon.” Doc pauses and licks her lips. She takes a breath, preparing to add another sentence. “I hope I’ll see you before you go.” It’s true. If Lexa lets Roan go back to Azgeda, Doc hopes she gets to Polis so she can see him before he leaves.

Clarke’s jaw drops and Doc almost laughs out loud! Roan’s face doesn’t look conflicted anymore. He stares at her with an expression that she can’t name when he says his parting words. “Thank you for helping me. I will see you before I leave.” He won’t leave Polis without seeing her again.

Doc watches Roan and Clarke leave with a weird feeling inside her body. It isn’t a bad feeling, just unknown. She goes back into the cave to wrap up Bellamy’s leg, even though he’s a punk ass bitch.


	4. Throne room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still on Season 3: Episode 2: Wanheda Part 2.

Doc beat Roan and Clarke to Polis. As soon as she heard Kane’s voice she took off. Bellamy wasn’t happy about it, but she doesn’t give a fuck about his opinion. Having to talk with the others would just slow her down. As she was making her way through the woods, she heard the voice that plagues her nightmares. Unfortunately sometimes it bleeds into her waking hours, like now. Taunting her with her eyes open, making her lose her grip. It made her move faster through the trees, she needs to focus on something else to forget that voice.

Doc was taken to the throne room when she went to see Lexa. It wasn’t ten minutes of silence later when Roan marched Clarke in and lifted the bag off her head. 

“Wanheda, as promised.” He spoke trigedasleng. For some reason, she found his words in his native tongue more appealing than when he spoke English. 

Doc stood against the wall near the back of the room and he didn’t see her when he entered, and she was kind of glad for it. It gave her the chance to observe Roan without his feline eyes paralyzing her brain.

The two guards at the door have their eyes trained on Roan. They don’t even glance at Doc. Lexa is flanked by Indra and Titus, with a guard at each side. Nine other people in the room besides her, but she still can’t keep her eyes off him. Roan’s impatience and excitement are rolling off him. Doc wills Lexa to open her mouth and tell him what he longs to hear but seeing the way she regards him makes Doc’s heart sink. She fears that once again he will be punished by Lexa for his mother’s actions. 

“Hello Clarke.” Lexa’s voice is impassive as she greets Clarke. Doc guesses that ‘hellos’ aren’t necessary for healers, just mountain slayers. She rises from her throne, gliding forward to survey Clarke’s battered appearance. 

Lexa addresses Roan curtly. “The deal was for you to bring her to me unharmed.”

“She didn’t come easy.”

“I’d expect not.” 

“I’ve done my part. Now do yours. Lift my banishment.” Roan sounded so intense. The anticipation was evident in his voice.

“I’m told your mother’s army marches on Polis.”

“That has nothing to do with me. Honor our deal.” Doc can hear the note of desperation in Roan’s voice. He knows now he won’t be allowed to leave. If her heart was heavy for him when she suspected it, its confirmation has her heart being crushed as his surely must be.

“I’ll honor our deal when your queen honors my coalition.” The smirk on his face is full of contempt for the Commander, who addresses her guards next. “Lock Prince Roan of Azgeda away.” After a pause she adds: “Take the Skaikru healer away too.” Always nice to be an afterthought.

Roan’s head jerked up when Lexa mentioned Doc and he looked to her over his shoulder. She wonders if he can tell that, up until a half hour ago, she was practically sprinting through the woods to get to Polis. Would he know that it was so she could see him? This was what Doc had wanted, to feel overwhelmed with feelings she couldn’t name. If only it wasn’t tainted by Lexa’s backstabbing. Seems to be a second nature for her.

After escorting Doc to a room three hallways over, the guard lets go of her elbow and lightly shove her in. She hears the footsteps of Roan, his guard, and her former guard continue until they get to where the next door is. Doc scans the room, noting the luxurious bed, how fancy. She goes to the balcony to admire the view and Roan is already leaning back on the rail, eyes boring into hers.

Roan moves away from the rail, closer to Doc. He then proceeds to explain his proximity. “I convinced the guard to put me in the room next to yours. Tell me if you’re in danger.” Just being in this decrepit building was dangerous, a fucking death trap. Doc wonders if she should mention this but decides to try the comforting route since she doesn’t think anyone else here cares if this man never sees his home again. This man who carried her to safety, risking the failure of his plan rather than leave Doc for the soldiers to find.

“I-I-I’m sorry.” He doesn’t ask why she is sorry because he already knows. Roan closes his eyes and a sigh slips past his lips.

Doc takes a tentative step towards Roan. She looks down at her hand and watches as it reaches out towards him. Before she could press her fingers to his palm and give his hand a tender squeeze, Jasper bursts onto the balcony.

Jasper! Her lips stretch into a grin when she looks at him but worry flits through her when she spots the large bandage on the left side of his neck. He must have gotten hurt during the mission he was on. She will check it as soon as they are alone. Him being on the mission was one of the reasons she went exploring. Without Jasper there Doc got bored because there was no one who needed healing, and Octavia and Lincoln were wrapped up in their physical intimacies. 

Jasper holds out Doc’s violin to her and her fingers tingle. He speaks about the violin’s origin to Roan without being asked. “It was a gift to her from Maya. She died at Mount Weather. Her and her father were some of the people that tried to help us when we were trapped there.”

Roan’s voice was laden with sympathy. “I am sorry she died.” Jasper nodded and blinked his watery eyes. Doc wrapped her arms around Jasper’s thin waist and squeezed a little harder than she should have. She wondered if he would forget it all if he could. Would Jasper surrender his joyful memories of Maya so he wouldn’t have to live with the tragic ones?

Doc’s mind flits to Monty. Will he ever tell Jasper of his love for him?


	5. Act of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene is my adaptation of the 100 Season 3: Episode 3: Ye Who Enter Here

Doc and Jasper have been chilling at Polis for a week now. They’ve been smoking their weed sparingly since they don’t know when they’ll be back to Arkadia for more. She has changed Jasper’s neck bandage twice since they arrived. Once he started talking about what happened while she was gone it came out in a rush, no breaks. He went on a mission to help look for Clarke and an Azgedan scout grabbed him from behind. Jasper’s voice had sounded guilty when he added on the bit about how he goaded the scout into cutting him. He said he smiled when he thought he was going to die.

Jasper looked into her eyes when he told Doc about his smile, and she knew he saw the haunted look reflected at him. She understands his pain, his wish for it to end, his fear that death will not be the end of the pain. Is there consciousness for us after death? Will this pain stay with us? 

Monty wants to glue Jasper back together. Doc can tell he desperately misses the way Jasper used to be. Happy and carefree, always smiling and joking around. Monty wants Jasper’s pain to melt away, wants to admit his feelings to him. He has spoken to Doc about it before, telling her that it wouldn’t matter to him if Jasper didn’t have those same feelings. Monty has no problem keeping his hands to himself. He just worries that revealing his physical desire for Jasper would weaken the love between them. 

Love was on Doc’s mind at the ceremony meant to initiate Skaikru into The Coalition. Jasper’s love for Maya. Monty and Jasper’s love for each other. The love between Octavia and Lincoln. Seeing Clarke in her black dress made Doc think about the way guys look at her. When they landed on Earth, Finn was looking at Clarke with doe eyes before they even exited the spaceship. Not long after that, Bellamy started up with the doe eyed shit too. Now, watching this ceremony, Doc is certain that Lexa has feelings for Clarke too. 

Doc feels a stab of guilt for thinking of romantic feelings as shit. She would have loved to meet Maya and watch her and Jasper fall in love. With how close Doc has always been to Jasper, not being there for the Mount Weather part of his life feels like a void in her own memory. 

Once Jasper described Maya’s facial features to her in extreme detail. She had asked him to do this because she wanted to create a sketch of Maya for him. Yet another reason why she wished she had been at Mount Weather. With her perfect memory, this portrait would have been a breeze. Stop.

That is such an irrelevant train of thought. Doc will change the sketch over and over until she sees a certain look on Jasper’s face. She doesn’t know exactly what look it will be, but she will know it when she sees it. Doc hopes that someday she could sketch Jasper and Monty smiling together with their arms over each other’s shoulders. Why shouldn’t they have a happy ending?

Doc wonders if people see her eyes in that way when she looks at Roan. She hopes he never looks at Clarke the way Bellamy does. Then Doc would wish she was Clarke, and her life just can’t come to that. Thankfully she doesn’t think it will, if Roan’s obvious annoyance towards Clarke is any indication. 

To Clarke he looks like a different person, but not to Doc. There were differences. Some of his tan washed off, hair cleaned and pulled back, clean clothes. But these are all cosmetic changes. Doc thinks that no matter how dirty or clean Roan is, the feelings he elicits from her will be the same. 

Clarke walks towards Lexa while the harp is played. The woman playing the harp, she was told her name is Danica, is doing a spectacular job. She watches Danica’s hands skim over the strings and thinks of her violin, Aurélie. Maybe it’s a cliché to name your favorite objects, but is it really just an object if it feels like an extension of yourself? Doc can see the wear on the harp, and she knows it is a favorite. She wonders if Danica has a name for it.

When Clarke reaches Lexa and kneels before her, Lexa gives a heartfelt speech. Kane is branded, officially marking Skaikru as the 13th clan of The Coalition. 

Bellamy bursts in with a bunch of other people saying that this ceremony is a trap. Doc spots Octavia! They’re looking over the room, looking for a threat. Bellamy’s face is a picture of confusion when there is no threat to be found. Octavia asks about Echo, who doesn’t seem to be present. Kane orders them to stand down as they realize they’ve been duped. When Raven’s voice crackles over the radio it’s clear that the supposed trap was a distraction. Mount Weather was toast.

Sadness spreads through the room. People died in the explosion. More dead people, Doc didn’t know how many. She didn’t even know people were living in Mount Weather. Lead settles in her bones, all the death. So much death. And for what? Why take the lives of people that are not harming you? Are there any good reasons? She can’t think of any. 

Doc’s breath leaves her body when she sees the monster next to Octavia. When she heard that voice in the woods it wasn’t her imagination. That monster is here, in this very room with her. Her mind is screaming at her to flee but her legs are frozen. She can’t let it see her, can’t feel its eyes on her. Bile feels stuck in the back of Doc’s throat.

Lexa orders breach through the toxic fog in her mind. “Guards! Take away the Ice Nation delegation! Including the prince.” This isn’t like the last time the guard were ordered to take him. He was treated more like a guest, now he’ll go to a cell. What would they do to him there? The history books never spoke of any positive prisoner of war experiences. Doc can’t imagine this would be any different.

“No!” That beast will look at her now, but she has no choice. Doc can’t stay silent in the face of this injustice now that she has a voice again. She won’t stay silent just because it will hear her. His voice in her head tries to drag her to those memories, those horrors. Doc digs her heels in, she isn’t going there now, she won’t. She has to keep talking, the word “no” won’t be enough to prevent anything.

“T-the prince wasn’t p-part of this!” The other members of Skaikru looked at her in disbelief. Doc is sure that it is due to her defense of the hair of a nation that wants them dead and gone. Gossip spreads fast, so they all probably know of her occasional speech by now. 

“Take her too!”


End file.
